The Glass Ceiling
The boardroom of the Sterling-Vane Group was a vacuum of white marble and silence, perched sixty floors above the frantic pulse of Manhattan. Leo stood at the head of the table, his reflection mirrored in the polished obsidian surface. At twenty-eight, he was the golden boy of the conglomerate, the reluctant heir to a throne built on hostile takeovers and the systematic erasure of competitors....
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